poly_chromatic | [ 010 ] ♐ [ Text ]

[ He arches an eyebrow as the glass is taken from him, but turns from judging to amused as soon as the other is put in its place.

He doesn't hang around, tipping it back and swallowing it down, eyes closing for a moment as he enjoys the burn of it on the way down. ]

Spies. Can't live with 'em and can't live without 'em. [ With a glance to the bottle and his empty glass in hand, he smirks. ] Depends. Are you trying to get me drunk here? 'Cause lack of food won't help that much.

Might be.

[She keep her eyes on him.]

Might just be worried about [losing] you. Need to look out for each other right?

Edited (because I fail at icons and eeww. Re: moval. ) 2012-11-14 20:20 (UTC)

[ He drops the act, the humour masking everything falling away, because, let's face it, he's not doing a good job of it anyway and he knows it.

So he shrugs, thinking of eating and making a face. ]

Not much in the cupboards, and I didn't really feel like fighting any fires.

You don't have to eat if you don't want to.

[This is better, it's honest...she prefers honest.]

I'll go shopping tomorrow then, for now let's pace yourself okay? I understand you're upset, I don't pretend to know details, I don't need them... But we have all night...

[ He appreciates that she's concerned as much as he does the fact she's not pushing, and it makes him feel more at ease with her, with them, relaxing into the couch more, fingers absently brushing over her hair that's spread over his thigh. ]

Did he...tell you anything? [ He rarely hesitates, and he sounds vulnerable, but he's curious for several reasons. He doesn't want to go against Coulson's wishes and fill her in on more than he might have wanted, but he's also curious as to whether he said anything to her that he didn't to him. ]

[She does her best, at least as far as the bulk of their personalities go, he isn't that different from what she knows of him. She relaxes against him when she feels some of the tension ease out of him.]

No, he didn't. Nothing more than you've mentioned. I spent a little bit too much time the last few weeks avoiding people.

[ He huffs a laugh that doesn't quite make it out because he should have known, realised how hard it was on her to get here, to adjust to everything. ]

Yeah, it's definitely a culture shock to land your ass here, so I don't blame you for that one.

[It has not been easy, which is why she's here sprawled out across the couch sipping alcohol that doesn't effect her. Because she likes the quiet calm of this apartment and not being out somewhere loud, with people.

If she were a different kind of girl she'd tell again how much she appreciates him letting her stay there. Or how much she appreciates him not asking her a thousand questions.

But she's not the sort of girl who gets...sentimental, or expresses herself like that, but then again her willingness to take care of him when he needs someone should be enough for him to know that she's there for him even if she ~~won't~~can't say it.]

It is, I'm adjusting. I'm not exactly very social anyway, unless it's necessary for a job.

[ He knows her well enough, in any form, to know without hearing it that she's thankful for it, that she wouldn't be there if she didn't want to be, if it wasn't what she needed; she does her own thing, the same way that he does, and they do what they need to in order to survive, to get through day by day. So she might not say it, the same way he doesn't say a lot of things, but he knows all the same.

He reaches over to put down the glass and snatch up the bottle, flicking off the loosely screwed on lid and takes a swing. ]

Really? 'Cause I never noticed. [ He's mocking, it's easier to be playful and teasing than deal with their baggage. ] Found yourself a job yet?

[Lucky for them they get each other.

She rolls her eyes at him in response to the teasing.]

Hey! I went out on Halloween, for all the good that did me.

[Nothing really terrible happened, but it was definitely an experience.]

Yep.

Not the best first attempt, but that's what we get with our fun little curses. But, hey, it's not all bad here. [ Or, at least, it wasn't. He hated it, tried everything to find a way out, and then Phil arrived and he stopped, didn't care to leave anymore. ] Well, it's got its moments.

[ He takes another swig, and then another, and passes the bottle over. ]

I might argue that it is, but it's not that bad right now.

[She takes the bottle, sits up a little to take a long drink, before offering it back to him and resting her head back down on his leg.]

Edited (how do I not use the 'oh face' icon?) 2012-11-14 23:45 (UTC)

From down there? Nah, it doesn't look so bad. But don't expect to use my lap as a cushion every day.

[ But, really, he wouldn't mind an awful lot if she did, and he's quite happy to take the bottle back, taking a large swallow from it and groaning as he gets too much on his tongue, scrunching up his face. ]

Okay, not everyday just most of them..

[Hell, she wouldn't mind if she did either, and she laughs at him when he pulls the face.]

You need to slow down, Clint. It'll last longer.

Edited (because how do I journal switch?) 2012-11-15 19:07 (UTC)

[ In rebellion, Clint pours another generous amount down his throat, ignores the attack on his senses this time, and grins at her mock innocent. ]

No one said anything about making it last longer. [ But he's feeling the numbness around the edges, head feeling a bit lighter, limbs a little heavier, and although he's still a long way off, he's getting there, the lack of real food in his stomach helping him along. ] You know, I don't know if you've noticed, but Fury's been evil eyeing you from the corner since you stole his spot.

[She meant the numbness, not necessarily the alcohol itself.

Glancing over at the dog she huffs a breathy laugh and looks back up at Clint.]

I'd noticed. [She taps him lightly to get him to give her the bottle again.] I hope he'll forgive me later if I get him some bacon, and not maul me out of jealousy one night while I'm sleeping.

[ He holds the bottle out to her and pulls it back teasingly as she reaches for it, but eventually behaves himself and shares. ]

Phil'd disapprove of feeding him bacon, he always-- [ Yeah, maybe not the best train of thought. ] He's a loyal creature, naive bastard. He'll forgive you.

[He actually gets her the first time he pulls the bottle back, and if her position were any better she might have given him a friendly little shove. Instead, she gives him an 'are you kidding' look, but smiles up at him anyway.

Which quickly fades into a tiny flinch when she realizes her mistake.]

Don't have much experience with pets, so I'll take your word for it.

[There was the time Sharon and her were watching a dog for a girl they were helping, and for lack of a better place to put it, used the trunk. Somehow, she doesn't think that qualifies as... proper pet care techniques, in fact, she knows it doesn't she was told as much. So she'll just... keep that to herself.]

[ He looks as if saying that a guy's got to try, and throws in a casual shrug of the shoulder. ]

Awh, c'mon, Tasha, you can't not love that adorable face. [ Calling across to the dog, gaining a lazy wag of the tail and eyes looking at him fondly, he puts on a babying voice. ] Can she, handsome? No she can't.

[ Focusing back on Natasha, as if he's reading her mind. ] He's my baby, be nice to him, yeah?

[She laughs at him and looks over at the dog shaking her head.]

I assure you I can put up one hell of a fight, but ultimately he will win.

[Looking up at him with a raised brow.]

Of course. I wouldn't hurt him, intentionally.

[ It's got to be the alcohol because he's grinning, but it's the kind of sad grin that's forced and doesn't quite reach his eyes; if he pretends with the aid of the whiskey then maybe he can do it for real later on down the line. ]

Fury always wins, you should know that by now.

[She reaches up, brushing the backs of her fingers over his cheek and giving a sympathetic look. It will get easier right? Because she has a pretty good idea she knows how he feels, or pretty damn close.]

True, regardless of whether he has four legs or two.

[ He doesn't mean to, in fact he means to do the opposite, but before he realises what he's actually doing, Clint's leaning into the touch, sighing, and for a moment he forgets about the ache in his chest, the void that can never be filled. ]

There's so much to be said for a name.

[Lingering there a moment before she pulls her hand back, she takes the moment for what it is, someone craving a little human contact, but mostly unwilling to accept it.]

There certainly can can be.

[Names. She might not have mentioned it to Clint, yet, but she's no longer calling Bucky 'James', because after their second meeting, she realized that, while Bucky is part of her James, there is none of her James in Bucky. So.. Bucky is his name, and that is what she will call him. It's easier for her that way.]

What is your Fury like?

[One day, when the wound isn't so raw for him, she'll ask him to tell her more about Coulson, today is not that day.]

[ He's grateful for that, and one day he might admit that to her, when it's less painful to think about him without breaking inside. It would be one thing for him to leave the City, but he knows when he follows him out, he won't be there waiting. ]

Big, black, badass. The usual. Guess he can't be much different no matter what universe he's in. Right?

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